


road nights

by gagates



Category: Grace and Frankie (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-11 01:37:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15304551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gagates/pseuds/gagates
Summary: i don't know how and where this story ends, but hey when you start driving, you don't always know, where you end up, either...Grace and Frankie are about 35 years old, roommates in a very small shared apartment, but had no shared history before living togethertrigger warning: hints to addiction





	1. Finally away

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know how and where this story ends, but hey when you start driving, you don't always know, where you end up, either...
> 
> Grace and Frankie are about 35 years old, roommates in a very small shared apartment, but had no shared history before living together
> 
> trigger warning: hints to addiction

When the car finally stopped on the side of the road, Grace let out a sigh. She unplugged the key and let it drop onto her lap. Then began the tears to flow. The weather forecast said the heavy rain should start at 5 p.m. This was an hour ago. Home was 113 km away, she had long past the last gas station, radio was only a static noise and all the usb sticks with fitting music were in Frankies- Frankie. Frankie. The music to her heart. The pain rose up to chest pain and loud wails. And this time Grace had no intention to hold herself back. She cried until her throat was sore and the headache needed a painkiller. Somewhere in her handbag certainly was a blister and vodka. At least some victory for today. Grace got out of the car. The last sign she could remember showed the way to a place called "Einöd". The sun still had this toxic yellow colour and over the valley to her right where heavy clouds in dark bluish grey. If only it would have started raining.


	2. calming herself

When the thunderstorm finally began, Grace, back in the car, got a lot calmer. The heavy rain was almost like a carpet draped over the car. It certainly shut off the outside world. The outside world. Home. With waiting until the worst part of the weather was over, she had about two, two and a half hour until she was home. Sleeping in the car suddenly had a particular charm. Despite the pain tomorrow. Which would mean she could take more painkillers. Now. Maybe if she would have taken them a couple of hours earlier, she would be still home. Frankie lying next to her on the couch, steadily breathing, humming a little bit. Maybe the unrest would have been the same. The unrest, which was buzzing inside her for weeks now. Technically thinking, she had everything. Work, flat, friends. Lacking a caress from time to time maybe, but hey, that's life, you die alone anyway. So where to start?


	3. the high and lows of 24 hrs pt 1

Grace began to recall the last days. The evening before the funeral came to her mind.

\-- "Was it so exhausting?" "Do I look this bad?" Frankie nodded a bit and hugged her. "I left you some pizza. I'm sure, your meal was only a couple of marlboros and red bull cans today." "Yeah, I'm sure, conducting an ant farm is easier." Grace opened the microwave. "Thank you!" "No biggie. So, how do you want to spend your precious 24 hours without work?" "Oh shit, I almost forgot to tell you, that I'll have to go to a funeral tomorrow. I'm already dreading it." Frankie touched Graces arm shortly. "I'm sorry. Want to tell who died?" "The father-in-law of my sister." "Oh. The Alzheimer's?" "No, yes, that too, but he had a couple of things and never went to the doctor's. I think, his body simply had no longer the energy to stay alive. Somehow I'm glad it's over." "What makes you dreading it?" "The people. They despise me. My sister. She really liked him. I don't want to see her crying. But I want to go for her. And I want to see Mom again." "Do you want to me to go with you?" Grace looked up. Frankie in all seriousness and concern. Frankie, a roommate, a friend. And yet she declined the offer. "No, thank you, but I think, I better tackle this by myself." "At least call me, before you drive home, again?" Grace swallowed, a sore throat began to flare up and nodded, looking at the pizza. "No more pizza, hm?" "I'm sorry, but..." "It's okay, I hadn't pizza for breakfast for years. I think, time came for a new tryout." "Thank you."

The first thing, Grace noticed, when she woke up the next day, was her swollen throat and her increased pain. And despite her body saying no, her inner voice yelling no, she went on. Taking a shower, dressing in black, driving two hours. Buying a condolence card, some flowers. Reminding her Mom not to forget the umbrella. More driving. The church, filling up with officials, neighbours, club members. Hand shaking. Family members, she hardly knew. Her sister. Pale. Both rather looking to the floor. The divine service. The music. The grave. More rain. The priest later, asking her about when she will start her own family, being auntie clearly isn't enough. Where the husband is. The talk with her mother about the living will. More pain. More traffic jam. More painkillers at home. Frankies Party tomorrow. --

Her sister had sent her a heart emoji later that evening. She felt so close to her Mom and sister on that day. And then so far away again. Because she for once wanted to tell them, how many colours her life had, since she no longer denied, that she is a lesbian. Sunday, the weekly phone call with her Mom. Sunday follows saturday, saturday follows friday. Party follows funeral. Frankies party. She didn't want to miss it, although she knew noone else. She wanted to get a glimpse into Frankies other life. The life with the art, with the family. She wanted to see Frankie in a other light. Of course, she drove. Of course, Frankie didn't come too late to her own party, because of herself. And of course, there would be joints, all kinds of music, just not classical music, all kinds of people. People with disabilities, old neighbours (she was absolutely sure, some of them were staunch republicans), friends fresh home from a goa trip, politicians, a Ferrari owner, environmentalists, a jam session... It was magic, a party, Grace always wanted to attend but never got an invitation for. The longer she thought about the party, the more the tears welled up again.


	4. the high and lows of 24 hrs pt 2

\-- "Oh, art rooms really do look like this!" "Of course, it's not a art room from a school where art is tightly packed into a 45min unit and every hint of creativty has to be scrubbed off." They took the paper roll and put it on the wall. "And by the way I want to see a painting of yours, too..." Frankie smirked at Graces slightly stressed look. "I really can't. I'm even worse in painting than writing poetry." "If it helps, I could take your hand... Our hands could dance a waltz on the paper." Grace gasped a little bit. Suddenly Frankie made her confused all over again. It's like missing a step and falling. But more like she would end up one day falling into a cloud. Watching Graces reaction made Frankie abruptly feeling bad about the decision she had made. It should have been like the last times for her. Hey new opportunity, here I come! After all she was more at home in her old VW Bulli than anywhere else. It was always easier to stay on the road as to stay at home. But not like this, like leaving someone behind who needs at least a band aid. "Maybe we should go back to the garden. I guess, the first guests are already on the way." Grace nodded. "You go, I want to watch some of your paintings again, if it's okay for you?" Thankful for getting such an easy excuse, both parted at the hallway. 

The crayon left blue marks on Graces hand. She would be the first guest to leave a painting. Maybe the only one . No, more likely the only who couldn't paint and yet. She wanted to leave a mark. For her. In her heart. There! This damn feeling again, this strange confusion. This feeling covering her whole body, centering around heart and stomach. Grace couldn't no longer stomach to hold the crayon, a crayon Frankie had already in her hand. 

There was enough alcohol to quiet all the confusion down, to cover everything else relating to people, she didn't know and hence didn't know how to outplay them with her usual perfection and composure. The later it got, the less they asked her for her name and profession, the more did Grace the dishes. Frankie was like a butterfly, speaking one moment with a smaller boy, the next with an older lesbian couple. If Frankie was the perfect entertainer, Grace wanted to be the perfect housewife to the host. "If you go on like this, the place will be already cleaned up before the party even ends..." This surprised remark from one of guests made her beam with pride. "It's my way of giving back." 

"Hey, was your roommate a waitress in her earlier life?" Her neighbour nudged Frankie at the elbow, as she was eyeing Graces behaviour. Grace scratched wax from one of the plates. "Stop." Frankie touched Grace at the shoulder. "No, no, it's okay. I don't want you to worry about the dishes. They're already in the dishwasher." "This isn't a job, Grace. You're my guest. Have you already seen the wild roses?" Taking her hand, Frankie lead Grace to a further part of the garden. Grace was blown away by the mesmerizing view over the valley. The heavy smell of the roses supported the sudden magic of the moment. "Sometimes i stand there and want to stop the time. Especially when the sky gets darker and the stars start to appear." 

"Thank you for adding some magic to my life." Grace gave Frankie a rose from the bush. "Oh." The reaction irritated Grace. "I rather not take it. Because-" A deep sigh. "Because I'm leaving. There is an art touring exhibition. 15 women of various backgrounds travelling through the country, working with local feminist groups, depicting the differences and similarity what feminism means for a woman. I'm at least a half year away." Grace almost stumbled, taking a step back. "You couldn't tell me that before I stepped over the drink driving limit? How the hell should I get out of this non existing place in the eyes of lyft?" Grace shoved the rose into Frankies hands. "Taking the fucking rose and everything with you. I'm out. And don't fucking touch me. Because you might burst like a fucking bubble and I wake up from one of the most beautiful thoughts I ever had." --


	5. closing more doors

Of course she had to end up at Frankies couch again the week after the party. Because doing not so would have meant that Frankie has already left. The night after the party spent Grace in the shower until the water got too cold and the tears vanished enough with the water. She heard Frankie knocking on the bath room door, when she came home from the party. She heard her going to her room, opening the door. Maybe she stayed outside of the room and looking back. Maybe she went inside her room. leaving the door open. Maybe Frankie stayed in the hallway waiting for Grace to come out. But however long Frankie decided to wait, Grace would stay inside longer. Lying in the car now, waiting to fall asleep, Grace thought to herself, she should have done this immediately after she was sober enough from the party. Frankie said, she would leave next weekend. Maybe she should call in at work to change some shifts to avoid her. After all someone always got ill suddenly. Everybody understands that. Because you don't want to be the one who says no. Grace took her phone and dialed the number of her colleague. If Frankie hurt her by showing her too much emotion, by letting her feel too much emotion, Grace could be the master by doing the opposite. It gave her a grim satisfaction.

An hour later the realization hit her with vigor. If she went on with distancing herself, going back to shutting off the emotions, Frankie would never see her. Would never see her how much she was in love with Frankie.

This was the kind of magic Frankie brought into her life. Frankie turned the theory of being a lesbian into practise. The remaining unrest got swept over with burning heartache. And if Grace wanted to survive this, she had to just not close the doors, she had to lock them up.


	6. wave goodbye, after you once said hello

For once, Frankie checked the fuel gauge before the journey. But even if she would have done it for a fucking sixth time, Grace still wouldn't have appeared out of the blue to wave good bye. 

She thought back to the moment, she saw Grace for the first time. Standing in front of the garden door, struggeling to open it, because her hands were full of art supplies. "Need some help? The door is a little bit rusty, don't know why the landlord doesn't do something. I offered him to pay for it, but he declined." Grace pushed the door with her knee. "Et voila..." "Do you know how sexy you sound, when you speak french?" "Do you always introduce yourself by flirting?" "No, usually I flash my bosoms. Nah, just kidding. The last time I flashed my bosoms was, when I demonstrated for a nude bathing at the beach. I'm Frankie." Frankies huge grin made the thought of living with her suddenly very bearable for Grace. "Hello, I'm Grace." Grace introduced herself with a warmer smile, as she usually had for strangers. 

Frankie missed her voice already, how squeaky it sometimes got. How raspy it could be. Her cursing in french. And now she closed the garden door, the art supplies already in the car. Frankie had tried staying awake, hoping to catch Grace coming home from her shift. But after an hour dozing on and off, she decided to sleep. The moment, Grace would close the hallway door, she would wake up. But the sound never came. And when she packed the boxes into the car, tears fell down from time to time. 

"Hit the road, Jack.", murmured Frankie to herself, after a look at the watch. She closed the door, checking for the last time, if Grace was walking down the street, coming home.


End file.
